


martian camellias

by corvus_corvus



Category: Persona 5
Genre: Additional palace, Florists, Fluff, Light Angst, M/M, Mild spoilers up to the fifth palace, a silly romp through the collective unconscious, featuring two nice boys and a florist who's a little bit done with everything, lots of talking
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-18
Updated: 2021-02-18
Packaged: 2021-03-13 21:40:28
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 9,158
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29532828
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/corvus_corvus/pseuds/corvus_corvus
Summary: Think of the devil and there he is, though with Ren the idiom might hold a little more truth than hyperbole. Since when does the devil wear a cute apron like that? Wait, cute? Shut up, stupid heart.And that is the exact moment when Ryuji's life begins to spiral just a little bit out of control. Don't even get him started on what flowers have to do with it.
Relationships: Amamiya Ren/Sakamoto Ryuji, Kurusu Akira/Sakamoto Ryuji, Persona 5 Protagonist/Sakamoto Ryuji
Comments: 8
Kudos: 49





	martian camellias

**Author's Note:**

  * For [mars_please](https://archiveofourown.org/users/mars_please/gifts).



> This is a florist-y fight-y pegoryu fic written for a very special person’s birthday. <3

His mom doesn’t complain about anything, doesn’t want or ask for more out loud. Ryuji’s not like his mom, though he’d never do any of that in front of her. But Ryuji does complain, does want more, and wants to scream it at everyone who thinks they’re better than him. If he were to list his current demands, Ryuji thinks it might go something like this:

  1. A full fucking meal
  2. For his mom to catch a break
  3. Brothy, oily, ramen
  4. Respect
  5. Some meat. Any meat.
  6. The sweet attention of one (1) pretty boy



Ugh, hold up, he should _not_ be thinking of those things back to back, damn teenage brain. In his defense, it’s not that he wants just any boy, but a certain beautiful bed-headed bespectacled best friend whose name may or may not be Ren. Or maybe that’s worse, since there’s no way that’s going to work out. Shit, what a tangent. He must be tired.

The point is, his mom’s pay got cut by her stupid boss deciding to reschedule her without asking, her second job’s on hold while they sort out some budget bullshit, their two-person family really has more yen rolling out the door than in, and they’ve eaten next to nothing for more than a week. Ryuji has had it up to here, but he’d never say that around her and she’d never ask him to do anything. Even though his grades are bad, his grumbling stomach is bad-er, so he hikes out to the job boards in the underground mall and picks up some applications that don’t seem like they’d go to Shujin for references. There’s a few looking for manual labor, and even if it’s temp work he thinks it’s his best bet. Time to make some phone calls—

“Hey, Ryuji.”

His heart pounds and stomach drops.

Think of the devil and there he is, though with Ren the idiom might hold a little more truth than hyperbole. After all, he does spend his free time summoning demons as an extension of his will, draining the life from supernatural creatures with a single curse. Ryuji thinks of the times when their demon prey begs for their lives and Ren takes it anyways, always with a smile, adjusting his gloves with disinterest in a way that makes Ryuji’s chest tight. He probably shouldn’t find it as attractive as he does, but maybe it just means he’s a sick fuck.

Since when does the devil wear a cute apron like that? Wait, cute? Shut up, stupid heart. “Ren! What’s up?”

“Taking a walk around the station while I’m on break. I’m surprised to see you here, though. I usually just run into Ann.” _Of course_. It’s not her fault, but some days it feels like it’s always about his old friend. Ryuji keeps his spoiled mood off his face.

“You work around here? Wait, when do you have time for a job with all the shit you already do? School and our palace schedule are already killing me, and I know you work at Le Blanc sometimes.”

Ren smiles, pushes his glasses up his nose until they flash with the artificial lighting. “You know me.”

“Startin’ to think maybe I don’t, dude. How could I miss you having a whole job?”

“It’s just part time,” Ren tilts his head.

“Still.”

They let the silence settle for a moment. “I’m at the flower shop in the back. You should stop by some time; I’d love to see you.” Ryuji looks down at the applications in his hands and catches the name Huerta Floral. _Floral_. Like flowers and shit, yeah?

“You know, I think I will.” And when Ren returns his smile, he knows it.

—

Turns out that there just might be more than one florist in all of Tokyo, and that Ren might not be working for Huerta Floral at all. If Ryuji was maybe a little bit smarter, acted a little less on emotional impulse, was a little bit more worthy of Ren’s attention—all things he tells himself—he might have figured this out before taking the job. 

Instead, here he is loading huge arrangements for some fancy event into a van with a boss he just met and no pretty best friend in sight. He had no idea flowers could be this effin’ _heavy_.

“It’s the water,” she explains.

“What?” He coughs. “I mean, excuse me?”

“You looked surprised when you went to pick up that piece. The plants aren’t always heavy, but the water that keeps them fresh is.” Her faces scrunches up the more she talks. “I thought you might want to know, but whatever.” He’s only known her for about half an hour total, but Espinosa Mars keeps her distance enough that it feels like they met five seconds ago. Still, she has been anything but cruel, and she did mention that she couldn’t care less about his suspension record. Something tells him she could use a little kindness.

“Good to know,” Ryuji replies on his best grin. “Got any other expert tips for a newbie like me, boss?” Mars rolls her eyes, but the corners of her lips flick upward just a tad. 

“Watch where you step.” And right as Ryuji’s about to ask if that’s general advice or immediate warning, he bumps into another arrangement.

“Sorry.”

“It’s fine. Not like the flowers mind, and,’” Mars adjusts a tilted leaf, “it doesn’t really matter anyways.” Ryuji knows enough to bite his tongue. He can’t help raising his eyebrows a little, though. “Hey.” She starts again, “I’m looking for an employee, not a friendly face.”

He feels the grin on his lips before he knows it. “You never know, maybe you’re getting more than you bargained for.”

When Mars plunks another tray of table arrangements into the van, she straightens with a shrug. “Wouldn’t be the first time. Now let’s get moving, we’ve got to be setting all this up in the next hour.”

“Yes ma’am!”

“Ma’am? Just how old do you think I am?”

—

His mom does her best not to get misty-eyed when Ryuji hands her the cash. And finally, _finally_ , they have a good dinner; she smiles and he smiles and he knows they’ll make it through another week. It feels good enough that there’s a moment where Ryuji doesn’t even worry about keeping whatever messy feelings he has locked up far away from his best friend. He sends Ren a series of complimentary texts, and gets a “You too” for his efforts.

A week later, Ryuji gets a phone call asking if he’d like to help Huerta Floral out with another gig. Of course, he accepts. And accepts the one after that. And the one after that. It’s probably in his head, but he thinks he can hear a touch of smile in Mars’ voice each time she calls.

—

Ren: Hey, I have something for you. Can I come drop it off now?

It’s the text that makes him narrowly miss a high score. His phone doesn’t buzz any differently, but somehow he knows it’s from Ren before he even looks. Something for him? Sure, he’s game for a surprise.

Ryuji: alright!  
> im at the arcade in shibuya  
> cmon over

Ren: Great. Be right there.

True to his word, Ren appears minutes later to interrupt his next attempt at a high score. Ryuji turns away from the screen and hears the descending jingle announce his death (in-game and otherwise with the way his heart stops at he seeing Ren’s brighter than usual smile). Picking his jaw off the floor, he manages to say hello with all the grace he is known for. “Woah, that was fast.”

“I came from work which is, you know, like right below here,” he beams. “You don’t have to stop playing.”

Ren’s mood must be infectious, because Ryuji finds himself laughing before he knows it. “Nah, I’d in-game die for you, bro. Hanging out with you is way more fun than video games.”

“I guess it’s good I came prepared for such grand gestures of love,” he chuckles and runs a hand through his hair. “We had some extra flowers at the shop; they snapped high up so they’re too short for any arrangements.” Sure enough, the bouquet Ren hands him is small and short, but the flowers practically glow in a spectrum of warm golds. “So I made one for you,” he says holding Ryuji’s hands for an extra breath.

Ryuji steps back quickly, putting some necessary-for-sanity space between them. “Wow, you’re—” he chokes, ”it’s beautiful. But, don’t you have someone else you should give it to?”

“Oh, you’re right. I forgot that I need to confess my undying love to Sojiro,” he rolls his eyes. “No, Ryuji. I want you to have it.” 

“So you’re a big softie after all, Ren-Ren?” _Takes one to know one_ , he wants to say. “It’s cool though! Thanks, man.”

With that tell-tale glint in his eyes, Ren delivers his final blow. “Of course. Yellow makes me think of you.” That knocks Ryuji’s heart flat on its ass; it’s a critical hit.

He’d never admit it, but the flowers put him on a high for like a week. When they charge into a palace a day later, Ryuji swears every baton pass with Ren makes his heart soar and his attacks hits five times harder. He’s whistling as a school flies by without much trouble. His mom’s asking about his good mood. That’s when he knows what he has to do.

—

“Good afternoon, boss!”

Mars keeps her focus trained on examining a bunch of lilies. “Good afternoon. I would ask what’s got you so peppy, but I’m starting to think you’re always like this.”

“You know me,” Ryuji sing-songs.

“And somehow I still allow you to be here,” she discards one of the stems dispassionately before turning her attention to Ryuji. “So let’s get to work.”

It’s once everything is in the van and they’re on the road to some up-and-coming wedding venue that Ryuji gets to what’s on his mind. “What would I have to do to start working with the flowers and not just, you know, carrying them around?”

Mars laughs, actually _laughs_ like a pebble hitting a still pond—Ryuji can’t remember ever hearing her _laugh_ before—until her face snaps back to its steady coolness. It only takes a breath for her mouth to match the still water in her eyes. “Sorry about that. Where did this come from?"

“A while back you said you were looking for an employee. Any chance you want someone else in the shop and not just for big events? I mean there’s gotta be some heavy stuff for me to carry day to day and, you know, maybe I can learn a little more about how you actually put the flowers together.”

For a moment, Mars’ eyes flick from the road to Ryuji, calculating. “Why do you want to get more involved?”

“I mean, it looks cool, me ’n my mom could always use the cash, and—”

She raises an eyebrow. “And?”

Ryuji sighs. “I have this friend who works for a florist in Shibuya, and he’s always being so snobby and smooth because he knows more than I do, and messing with arrangements, and shit like— stuff, I mean stuff—like that. But he can’t keep actin’ like a know-it-all if I can figure this out, too.”

“Ah, I get it now. What, you wanna make him a bouquet using a dramatic, romantic, secret flower language? Confess your true and eternal love so he swoons into your arms and you carry him off into the sunset where you passionately make out until—”

“N-no! What the hell—heck! What the heck?”

“Yeah right,” Mars frowns. “I’ve been in this business for years, Ryuji. That’s exactly what everyone wants, and exactly what reality isn’t. Have some non-plant advice: take care of yourself and don’t get drawn into love or hate. It’s not worth it.”

Ryuji cracks his knuckles. “Sounds pretty rough.”

“It can be. Getting involved and getting hurt can be pretty rough too.” With a deep breath, her voice gets lighter. “Show up at the shop on Tuesday at 4:30 and we’ll get started. I’ll have you doing beautiful arrangements in no time.”

“Wait, really? You’ll teach me?”

“Anything for love,” she deadpans. 

“I didn’t say that anything about love!”

“Yeah, yeah. Never change, Ryuji.”

This is how Ryuji starts spending more time around plants and the shop and the trendy neighborhood blissfully far from anywhere he might run into Ren. That’s when it happens. All he can think is: Holy fuck. His boss has a palace.

How does Ryuji find out? Accident. He must hit the app when it’s in his pocket at work. It’s a normal day when Mars picks up the phone and says, “This is Huerta Floral, Espinosa Mars speaking.”

“Candidate found.” chirps muffled from his back pocket. Ryuji’s heart stops. He knows how time bends in the Metaverse; he can’t run off and investigate now, so he takes a break and texts Ren instead.

Ryuji: yo. dude.

Ren: …Yes?

Ryuji: i think my boss has a palace  
> like really  
> are you still there?

Ren: Yes.

Ryuji: sooooooo? whaddaya think?

Ren: Yeah, mine too. The one at the beef bowl shop is definitely plotting the end of the world as we speak.

Ryuji: no, cmon man  
> would i joke about this?

Ren: Guess not. Do you have any other info?

Ryuji: not yet. just found out.

Ren: Okay. Remind me to bring it up at the next team meeting. Find out what you can before then.

Ryuji: cool cool  
> wait a sec  
> you have ANOTHER job???

And when Ryuji’s scrolling through his phone later that day and catches a photo of Ren smiling as Ann plants a kiss on his cheek, he thinks he should maybe listen to his elders (no matter how young Mars insists she is) for once. Maybe he should stay far, far away.

—

Piling into the attic above Le Blanc should be a calming routine, but today Ryuji’s nerves are burning with the knowledge that he’s been unknowingly in contact with someone who has a full-on, probably-killer, palace. The team no doubt notices, Ann patting him on the shoulder and Ren giving him one of his worried looks. Makoto cares enough to get right to the point. “Are you okay, Ryuji?”

“I found another palace. Totally by accident.” 

The room stills while the sound of the coffee shop downstairs clatter and hum. Ren opens his mouth like he might break the silence, but it’s Haru’s voice (still new, still unexpected, still uncertain) that cuts gently through the tension. “Judging by everyone’s response, I’m guessing this isn’t normal?”

“Definitely not,” Morgana pipes up, “Other missions or people in trouble, sure. But It’s just been one palace at a time. I mean, how do you find a palace by accident?”

Ann, hand still on Ryuji’s shoulder, plays defense. “Isn’t that how you found Kamoshida’s castle? It doesn’t sound impossible.”

Ryuji squeezes Ann’s hand in thanks. “It’s my boss at a floral shop a couple neighborhoods over. Think I musta hit the Nav by accident when I was at work.”

“A floral shop,” Yusuke’s attention is finally piqued, “how quaint. And even more curious considering the scope of distortion necessary to render such a formidable space as a palace. Who might this person think they rule over?”

“That’s the thing, I don’t think she’s imagining ruling over anyone. Palaces are just about how you see the world, yeah? And all I know is that she sees it as painful. Plus, she keeps everyone super far away from her, including me,” Ryuji explains. “Pretty sure the only friend she lets herself have is her cat.”

Futaba curls in on herself from where she’s perched upon Ren’s bed. “That sure sounds a lot like someone else’s palace we’ve already dealt with…” 

“Futaba,” Ren soothes.

“I’m fine,” she mopes as Morgana leaps to her side. “It just sounds awfully familiar.”

Makoto is the quick to jump in. “And if it is anything like Futaba’s palace, I want to help immediately. No one should suffer like that, even at their own hands. But,” she pauses.

“But my father is worse. My father is hurting people,” Haru amends. “That’s what you’re thinking, right?”

“Exactly,” Makoto stammers. “Now that we’ve finally got the whole team on board to proceed with Mr. Okumura’ palace _and_ Haru has joined us, it seems wrong to help one person before the many victims we know Mr. Okumura is affecting.” Haru cringes and Makoto hurriedly apologizes.

“I can’t believe I’m saying this, but I agree with Makoto.” Futaba adds, “I want to help, but it’s bad timing. Doesn’t sound urgent either. Even at my worst, I think I would’ve felt really guilty if I knew you went out of your way to help me before a bunch of other people. I vote for revisting this palace after we get rid of the bootleg sci-fi nightmare in Okumura’s heart.” Ann, Morgana, and Yusuke agree.

“Ren?” Morgana asks.

“I—” He looks at Ryuji from behind thick glasses, “I think I have to agree. Especially when he’s our only lead on the black mask. There’s a chance we won’t only be helping Okumura’s victims here, but preventing more casualties from those mystery attacks.”

“Makes sense,” Ryuji concedes. “Just wanted to let you all know what I found.”

“Which was smart,” Ann chimes in. “So let’s tear right through this palace so we can make sure to help her soon, yeah?”

“Yeah. We’ve got this.” Ryuji smiles at Ann. But as he turns to her he notices a dangerous look in Ren’s eyes, the kind almost hidden by the glare of his glasses. That look doesn’t make sense until later that evening, after a grueling run through the winding corridors of Okumura’s palace leaves them all haggard. Ren—Joker, really— is somehow still walking light on his feet as though he hadn’t been tussling with demons for the past few hours when he approaches Ryuji at the palace’s entrance.

“About the meeting earlier,” Ren begins, “I’ll help you steal your boss’ heart on our days off if you want.”

“What?” He yelps loud enough that the rest of the team turn to them from across the room. Morgana rolls his eyes and a moment later they are ignored again. This time Ryuji whispers, “You agreed it can wait. We all did.”

“And it sounds like a simple palace. It’ll be fine with the two of us, just like a Mementos job.”

“Except not in Mementos. And not with a full team. And not telling the truth to—”

Ren’s gaze is piercing from beneath the mask when he interrupts. “What can I say? Anything for you.” Ryuji blushes instantly below his own mask, grateful it is there until the moment it dissolves as the world around them lurches and rights itself into reality. Someone else on the team must have hit the Nav, because Ren looks as startled as Ryuji feels. “Oh, wait, that sounds bad. Did I really just say that out loud?” 

Ryuji may be blushing, but now he’s laughing deep and unabashed. “Yeah you did, dude. All smooth and suave, too. I think I’ve been swept off my feet,” he jokes, and Ren’s face goes _red_. “That was all Joker, huh?”

“Um, I guess,” he mumbles while avoiding eye contact. “Seriously though, I can tell it’s weighing on you. It’s not safe to have you in the lineup like that.” 

“No shit. I get why it’s not as big a deal, but I can’t just do nothing when I know someone’s in trouble.” Ryuji glares at his feet like it’s their fault that he’s so easy for Ren to read. When he looks up Ren is staring at his phone, mortified. “You good?”

“Yeah.” 

“‘Yeah,’ he says. What’s got you blushin’?” He scoffs.

There’s a crystal moment of tension before Ren clears his throat. “Futuba’s messing with me again.” 

“Again? Dude! Let me see.” 

“Ah, no I already deleted it,” But Ryuji’s pretty sure he saw the blur of a picture on Ren’s phone before he locked it again. Something bright and blonde. Damn, he knew Ren had a thing for Ann. “Anyways, from what you said, it’s probably not too threatening of a palace anyways.” 

“I dunno, Futaba’s was threatening.” 

“Not in the same way as the others. It was tricky, sure. But not…I don’t know. I agree with what the team said: it’s not as urgent. So we’ll take our time, be safe.” That’s when Ren unleashes that bright smile from the day at the arcade, and Ryuji knows he’s fucked. “Besides, maybe I want you to myself for a little bit.” Ryuji goes home with those words echoing around his head, clashing with the photos of Ren and Ann, and their easy friendship, and all the everything and nothing he’d never admit to wanting from Ren. It’s awful, messing up his head for the rest of the night with a few simple words.

He’s really starting to think Mars was right.

—

“I bet it’s like a park, one of those big ones filled with plants.” It’s after school one Thursday that Ryuji finds himself loitering outside his place of work with Ren in tow. It might not be the first situation of its kind, but trying to guess the palace core of someone he knows well? That’s not the kinda thing he does every day.

Ren fidgets with a frayed string on his uniform while he comments. “C’mon, Ryuji. Just because she’s a florist doesn’t mean plants are her whole life.”

“Okay, man. When we get in there and see a buncha plants, you owe me ramen.” Ren chuckles. “Uh, some kind of ice thing, because she thinks the world can be cold. Or somewhere where you can be alone. Like an old temple?”

“You really think so?”

“No,” Ryuji grouses, “But you said to try not-plants. So no more garden things.” And the Nav chirps away, right before Ryuji feels leather on his hands and cool metal on his face. 

This time when Ren laughs, it’s all dagger-sharp Joker confidence. “Guess I owe you ramen, huh?” A quick glance confirms Ryuji’s suspicions; there’s flora everywhere. Lush, full, blossoming, and stark gray. In fact, everything about this place is a soft, matte gray with details that fuzz around the edges. They’ve entered in a round courtyard circling an empty fountain, paths in a dozen directions radiating from the center.

“Where to?” 

“Crap. I didn’t even think about what it meant to be doing this without Futaba or Morgana.” 

“Want to bet the treasure’s in that tower?” He waves a red glove at a skyscraper towering above the hedges, its height obscured by a haze of sky.

“Think I’m gonna stop while I’m one whole bowl of ramen ahead,” he drawls. “But we can give it a try.”

The shadows lurking on the path look vicious—a collection of dryads and flower faeries and massive carnivorous plants oh so befitting to the theme—but they move slow and sleepy. With the way they waver between attacks, Ren calls them indecisive. The shadows are everywhere, stalking them between the pristine leaves. It’s a familiar, safe threat. Ryuji strikes up a conversation while he strikes another Mandrake flat against the ground. “We keep going into palaces and half the time I’m surprised what’s there. It’s like, do you really know anyone? Like she’s a florist and this is a garden, sure, lemme grab my weed whacker. But this is a maze, dude. I never woulda guessed. Makes you wonder.”

“The mind works in mysterious ways.” Ren slashes through the chest of a Kodama with a lunge, “Or the heart, I suppose.”

And never let it be said that Ryuji doesn’t want to know Ren’s heart. Or wait, do let it be said and keep his stupid crush covered up. Of course, his mouth has a mind of its own. “What do you think your palace would be like?”

A gunshot makes Ryuji jump even more when he sees just how close the dissolving shadow got behind him. Ren’s already leaping back to the next set of killer plants when he replies, “Can’t have one.”

Ren smiles when Ryuji grabs his shoulder and casts Tarukaja to help him tear through the next row of demons. “I _know_ , but if you could. I think mine’d be like about being angry. Like a secret volcano base from an old action movie. Or a Roman colosseum. Or—oh no duh, something about pirates. Captain Kidd and all.”

“Ryuji, that’s…”

“Genius! I know.” Ryuji beams while he kicks something that isn’t quite a Koropokkuru, “What about you?”

“I—” Ryuji watches Ren rip off his mask and summon Nekomata. “I don’t know.”

That’s when it clicks. “You’ve got all those masks,” Ren grimaces at Ryuji’s words. “What? You do. I’d bet it’d be something about that. It’d be a pain in the ass to steal your heart because it’d be all illusions and traps, you know?” Ryuji snaps his fingers. “That’s it! It’d be like a magic show!”

“Oh, god _no_ ,” he yells over the wind storm of a hastily cast Magaru pushing their enemies far back.

“Don’t even start dude!” Ryuji messes up Ren’s hair “You didn’t wanna give me any ideas, so you’re stuck now. Besides, you’ve already got the outfit.”

Ren bats Ryuji away and tries to stifle his smile. Instead he laughs, “This outfit is _refined_.” 

“Please,” Ryuji laughs.

Ren grabs Ryuji’s collar, and leans in close enough that Ryuji has to look up to meet his eyes. Ren smirks, “Right, because you and your pirate-chic ascot looks so classy.” Ryuji stays silent, and it’s then Ren notices what he’s done. He jumps back with a jerk, like taking a direct hit from a Zio spell. “I’m so sorry.”

“It’s fine.”

“It’s—”

“It’s fine, Ren.”

Just like that, the easy atmosphere dissolves. At least they’ve made it to the tower—sparkling pale glass reflecting the surrounding garden. Ren raises an eyebrow when they slip in and find the tower is just staircases and non-lethal plants and gray without a shadow in sight. No fighting means it’s easy enough to get to the top.

They start climbing. Sure enough, a glance through the glass room at the top reveals a woman with long, dark hair and and soft shifting glow of a half-formed treasure. “That’s her?” Ren asks and Ryuji nods. The smile is all Joker when he says “Jackpot.”

—

Palaces require time. Or at least they do if you don’t want to get shit on—or killed—by shadows every two minutes. Combined with the fact that both Ren and Ryuji are already busy, finding a block of time to schedule even a simple heist takes a longer than Ryuji hoped. Things start weighing on him. Palaces, Mementos, his own hectic schedule, and Ren’s distance wear him down. A bad day at school is all it takes to make him snap. Holding it together until the late evening just means his mom is more concerned when he says he’s going to go out for a run.

But running doesn’t pull him out of his thoughts at all. If anything, it feels like it’s helping them rattle around his head like a snow globe of dread. His feet take him to the train station before he knows it, and he’s already making a phone call. 

“Hello? Ryuji?”

“Hey, do you have time for me to drop by? I could really use a break.” _Tell the truth_ , the voices in his head bid. “It’s been a long day, week, whatever. And—crap—I just want to see you.”

Ren doesn’t hesitate. “Sounds great. I’ll meet you at the Yongen-Jaya stop.”

“Wait, for real?”

“For real. Now don’t you have a train to catch?” And the phone beeps out an ended call tone. Ryuji briefly worries that his phone might have developed the ability to lie to him since he last used it for a call, because that was way too easy. He wants to see his friend more than he wants to second-guess technology, though, because he’s on the next train instead of heading home.

True to his word, Ren’s already outside the stop, leaning against a streetlight and scanning the crowd. And how the fuck does he do that? Look so pretty all the damn time, because Ryuji didn’t even think it was possible for sodium lighting to make someone look so glamorous. He wants to say something that walks the messy lines of friendly-awkward-intimate-distant-romantic-platonic that exist between them, but Ren beats him to it. “For the record, I wanted to see you too.”

“O-oh, yeah?” Ryuji stammers. He swears the half the neighborhood has eyes on them as Ren walks them back to the café, or maybe it’s just in his head. Regardless, Ren doesn’t seem to care, not even when the old man at the second-hand store across the way raises an eyebrow at Ren unlocking the shop for a single visitor hours past closing. As soon as the door opens, Ryuji’s greeted by a waft of warm spices. 

“Can you turn on the lights?” Ren asks as he makes his way through the dark cafe like he lives here. Ryuji flips the switch and immediately catches Ren tying an apron around his waist before he sets something to boil. “So what’s on your mind?”

“Nothing.”

“Right.” Quiet stretches between them while Ren flits about. Now that he’s here, Ryuji is unsure why he thought being physically near one of his too-touchy stressors would help him chill out. “You know, even if you don’t want to talk I’m really glad you called. Really glad you’re here.” Ryuji nods.

Leaning into the counter, Ren slides him a cup. “Sorry, Ren, I believe everyone when they say that you make good coffee, but I just can’t take that stuff.”

“I know,” Ren smiles, “that’s hot chocolate, you dork.”

Ryuji sniffs the cup, and sure enough it’s sweet enough to kill. He looks up at the chalkboard hanging above the bar, “Since when does Le Blanc serve hot chocolate?”

“It doesn’t. This is just from me to you.” Ryuji is going to _melt_ right into this sinfully sweet beverage if he has to see that bashful smile on Ren even more second longer. He needs to run, get away from this boy and these feelings while he still can. What he wants, on the other hand, is to drift ever closer into the soft pull of Ren’s velvety voice, to lean against his stupidly bland button-up, to slip off his big glasses and look into his eyes unguarded. Because he’s a helpless sentimental, he does that last part before he can think. Ren’s holding his own steaming coffee to his lips while his glasses fog up. Ren holds his gaze even as his cheeks pink.

“I, uh, they were fogging up with the steam. Didn’t look comfortable.”

“Oh?”

“Yeah, I—” and it’s then that Ryuji notices Ren’s hands gently draped over his own. Like he was poised to take his glasses back. 

After screwing up so bad in the want department, Ryuji’s reminded of what he needs: to run. He bolts fast enough that the cup rattles on the bar and Ren’s eyebrows shoot up. “Welp, gotta go. Thanks again, bro.” And he’s laughing, but Ren looks crushed, but he can’t can’t can’t deal with that, he’s got to get some distance between him and this boy before Ren realizes everything that’s wrong with him and never speaks to him again. Nope nope nope, do not think about it. 

He feels guilty enough to text later that night. He remembers when they used to text all the time, before everything got so busy and difficult, and their thieves guild got so big. It hurts, so he pushes it away.

Ryuji: thx again for havin me over  
> and for the hot chocolate  
> really needed that

He’s just about to turn his phone off to avoid the distress of waiting for a reply all night when his phone buzzes.

Ren: No problem. It was a pleasure.

It’s quiet for a while, Ryuji staring at his phone for so long it must look like he can’t effing read. He doesn’t know what to say to that. Apparently Ren does, though, because his phone buzzes again a few minutes later.

Ren: Sorry if I did something to make you run away like that.  
> If you’re up for it, please tell me so I don’t do it again.

And how is he supposed to respond to that? _No, you didn’t do anything wrong, you did everything right. Too right, in fact. You’re just so warm and kind and gorgeous and definitely not interested in me that I had to get away before I kissed you. Ha ha. No homo_. God damn.

Ren: Take your time. I just don’t want to lose you.  
> You’re my friend.

It’s both bandage and blade, those words typed neatly at the bottom of the screen. He’s Ren’s friend, so Ren does still care, does still want him around. But he’s also Ren’s _friend_ , not _boy-_ or _bro-_ or even _best-_. He’s a friend-friend. Nothing more, nothing less.

He almost replies, but then he remembers how feelings are the reason he’s a mess in the first place. This time, he resolves to listen to his head and put some distance between himself and the boy that won’t stop haunting him.

Ryuji turns off his phone.

—

“Hey.” 

Ryuji almost drops the arrangement he was working on because that voice makes his heart stop. “Holy crap—I mean, ugh. I don’t know anymore. Did you have to sneak up on me, Ren?”

“You’ve been avoiding me.”

“I—” and shit, he can’t come up with way to deny it. “Yeah. But I’m at work right now.”

“Figured it’s the only time you can’t run away easily.” He runs a finger down the side of the vase while Ryuji does him damndest to not think about those long fingers or that soft hair or those pretty eyes that are _right right right_ there. “Yellow camellia, huh? Are you trying to tell me something?”

Ryuji ignores the batting eyelashes. “This isn’t even for you!” 

Ren sighs. “Right. Well I’m here for business. Palace was easy and the treasure’s in sight. Want to send the calling card? You’re going to have to write it this time.”

“Let’s do it,” and he can’t help but return Ren’s smile. 

By next week, Mars is telling him about a weird prank she got in the mail, and can he believe that anyone would feel like pranking a random florist? Like these phantom thieves on the news—if they are even real, she says—would come after her. What _is_ this world coming to? All Ryuji can do is laugh along.

“You aren’t even a little scared? I mean, these guys have been landing people in jail.”

“Being a florist isn’t for the weak of heart,” she smirks. “I deal with brides and romantics every day. Vigilantes are nothing.” 

—

“Espinosa Mars. Huerta Floral. Garden.” Ren says the words, and reality blurs out of reach. Just like before, it’s replaced by the crisp gray of an open-air courtyard. Just like before, it seems almost empty filled with shapes and silhouettes like placeholders more than anything solid. Just like before, the shadows lurk around the tower sluggishly.

Just not like before, Ren won’t even fucking look at Ryuji.

Crap. Well maybe if he acts like everything’s fine, Ren will too.

“Let’s go.” And Ryuji follows while Ren dashes ahead, watching his coattails fly. When they slip into the tower, everything’s going to plan—ah yes that’s why he’s knocked flat on his face, right? Looking up gives him a front row seat to Ren backflipping off a dissolving shadow and sending a dagger flying into another. Ren reaches out and red leather meets yellow to pull Ryuji up, faces barely a breath apart before Ryuji is spun back out like a dance. 

“There’s shadows in here _now_?” The of punch his sledgehammer punctuates his next question. “We need to conserve energy before we make it to the top, yeah? Wanna go for a run?”

“Good idea,” he mumbles and covers them in the cloud of a smokescreen. Good thing too, since shadows are lining the stairs.

“Jumping over these shadows is makin’ me wish I did hurdles,” he chuckles. Ren doesn’t respond. “You good?”

He rips the mask off a shadow low to the ground and Ryuji shoots it down instantly. “Doesn’t matter.”

“Sounds like it might matter.” Ryuji takes a breath and casts Mazionga to clear the stairs in a flash of lightning. “C’mon man, we’re a team.”

“Really?” Ren snaps, “Then why have you been avoiding me?”

“I—”

“Why do you,” he lunges forward to sweep the legs (roots?) out from underneath a row of Mandrakes, “seem to welcome my advances only to freak out?” 

Ryuji balks and almost misses a direct hit on another shadow. “ _Advances_? What century are you from?”

“And I’m pretty sure _you_ flirt with me and still run away.”

“I don’t,” he punches another Kodama, “I-I don’t flirt with you.”

“‘I guess being free is like how I feel when I’m with you.’ Do you not remember saying that?” He finally looks Ryuji in the eyes. “How is that supposed to sound, Ryuji?”

“Like I care about you! Because I do.”

“And also why you blush whenever I stand within five feet of you?” A Shiisaa rampage crushes the shadows all the way to the next floor, summoned by Ren with a scowl.

Ryuji shouts back, “It’s why I’m working at a flower shop and in this whole situation to begin with, dumbass.”

“How is it my fault?”

“I thought I was applying to the florist you work with! Which is my fault for not checking, but your fault for smiling so pretty and telling me to stop by because that’s what made me not think. You looked good in the stupid apron. I just wanted to see you more.”

“That doesn’t sound, I don’t know, not strictly-friend-like to you?”

“I don’t know, what do you want from me? How am I just supposed to say things?”

“I gave you an easy out. Multiple times actually.” Ren slams into another shadow, gritting his teeth. “I called out the yellow camellia when I bothered you at work.”

Ramming his boot right in the middle of the shadow knocks into oblivion. “That wasn’t a call out.”

“It’s for longing, Ryuji. _Longing_. And I’ve told you yellow makes me think of you.”

“That’s not the same as just saying something!” Ryuji lets his frustration pour into a flash of Ziodyne that shakes the room.

“Shocking.”

“Did you just—”

“You really don’t get it. Fine. I’ll back off.” And Ryuji responds before he can shout, grabbing the Kodama lunging at Ren’s back and ripping it apart. Ren glances at him before glaring at his shoes, “We’re at the top anyways.” 

He turns to push open the doors to the final room when Ryuji grabs his shoulder. “Wait, Ren. We don’t know how this fight’s gonna go. No matter what, I’ve got your back.”

“I know,” Ren sighs. “And I’ve got yours.” When the door opens, it’s with both Ren and Ryuji stepping forward together.

Mars doesn’t turn, doesn’t speak, doesn’t react to the swish of the doors and footsteps at her back. For a second, Ryuji wonders if she’s even breathing. She is dressed in shimmering silver, her suit jacket flaring out over pleated pants that shift like waves. “Oh? The Phantom Thieves weren’t a prank after all?” She glances over her shoulder, a profile in gray broken up by the shadow-gold eyes. “Or maybe they are, if two ratty teenagers are all they’ve got,” she pivots with a flick of her hair. “Or maybe they aren’t if you’re tougher than you look. Who can say?”

Ryuji whispers to Ren, “Yo, are you getting all this?” Ren just tilts his head.

“Why are you still here?” Mars crosses her arms.

“You read the calling card. We need to talk,” Ryuji takes a step forward and—

“Don’t come any closer.”

“We don’t have to fight if you’ll give us the treasure. Just let us help you.”

Mars kicks the treasure chest behind her, letting it bump against the window. “Stay away.”

“You don’t have to be like this,” Ryuji reaches out a hand, notices Ren reach inside his coat slowly, watches Mars square her shoulders. None are good signs. “You don’t have to be alone.”

When Mars snaps, it’s not lighting or fire or even the crush of earth. Her face stays calm, but she talks faster like a gathering force of nature. She’s a storm, Ryuji knows it the split second before the air rustles around them. “You’re right, I don’t have to be alone. I choose to because I’m done. Everyone wants all these choices of me and none of it’s right. None of _them_ are right.” Gray clouds gather outside the tower, the wind whipped to a flurry within the room as mist begins to paint the windows. “I’m just here in the middle, and that’s where I want to be, where there’s no right or wrong or whatever. I can’t choose. I won’t.” 

Finally, Ren speaks, his hair flying into his eyes. “You’re hurting yourself. You can’t just lock up your feelings this way.” And Ryuji can feel the small look Ren sends him more than he sees it. Crap.

“Watch me. It’s not like any of this matters.”

“It does matter,” Ryuji mutters.

“You’re _wrong_ ,” she says, still even and cold. But rain batters the glass until it shatters, wind spinning the shards around them. Ren responds with a quick Media to patch them up once Mars blurs into a dark shape, her true shadow taking form. A long silver fishtail makes up the lower half, hovering above the ground with fins flowing like water, but the top is covered in glistening armor and floral filigree. What stands out most is the helmet of goat’s snout and sharp horns obscuring her face. One horn is broken almost to the base while she holds its remains in one hand. The rain falls harder with a flick of her tail, and vines sprout from the ground to swipe at the thieves. Ryuji rolls out of the way of one only to be sliced by her broken horn. “And you, _you_ were supposed to be safe. You don’t have any reason to care about me. You were supposed to stay away.” A Garudyne breaks out of the sky and hits him to the ground, but Ren interrupts her next attack by putting bullets in her side just below the armor.

Calling forth his persona, Ryuji takes advantage of the distraction to slam an attack head on. She stumbles back pushing the treasure to the edge of the tower. “Up to you, man,” Ryuji yells over the storm with a high-five to his teammate.

“Get the treasure,” Ren calls between casting light and dark spells with a switch of a mask. Both bounce off her and back at Ren with equal ease.

“You look very fashionable in black,” She snarls with a grab at Ren’s neck. “But I prefer gray.” Vines wrap from her armor to hold him in place, her gauntlet raised to cast another spell, when a metallic thunk splits through the air. 

All Ren catches is the aftermath. Ryuji at her back, fumbling with a treasure chest half his size, dented on one end with a matching scratch on Mars’ helmet. Ren can’t help the way his jaw drops even as he fumbles for his dagger. “C’mon, is it that surprising that I’d come back for you?”

“It’s that surprising that you just bashed her over the head with her own treasure,” Ren counters with a slash that forces Mars to crumple.

“I hate this,” Mars seethes. “You want me to be the villain of this story. You want me to choose a side.” The storm picks up, and Ryuji can feel himself being pushed back little by little as the edge of the tower looms closer.

Blinking through the stinging rain, Ryuji jumps when Ren grabs his forearm and pulls him into the still eye of the storm. “She’s getting ready for something dangerous,” Ryuji reads his lips more than hears. “Be on your guard.”

“You’re just like everyone else!” And with that scream a wall of flora surrounds her before it stabs outwards in every direction. Ryuji tackles Ren without a thought. Ren makes a soft cry, but the vines and thorns and branches snap over them instead of through them.

“You could’ve just told me to duck,” Ren says, and Ryuji can feel the smile against his jaw. Ryuji disentangles from Ren’s grasp in an instant.

“Whatever. I’m not good with words.”

“You’re good enough,” Ren replies. “Good enough to talk her down and let us get out of here without more of a fight.”

“I think you’re mixing me up with someone else.” Ren runs his thumb along Ryuji’s sliced shoulder, casting Dia and watching as it closes. It puts enough of a zing in his veins that Ryuji relents. “Hey,” he yells through the vines. “Hey! Mars!”

A silver hand crushes the vines to their right with lethal force. Ren grabs Ryuji’s collar to pull him out of the way, but Ryuji darts _towards_ the shadow instead. “I was wrong. She doesn’t want to talk. What are you doing?” Ren hisses.

“Talking,” Ryuji shouts, climbing out from the layer of vines. “Look, Mars, I dunno what you need to hear. And I’m not even good at this anyways, but I care. I think that’s all I can say, and I think that’s okay because it’s still true.” The storm gets sharper somehow, and Mars lashes out frantically. When Ryuji dodges a hit, it’s Ren who leaps after him to counter debris flying his way.

Her mask hides her face, but it can’t hide the crack in her voice, “Shut _up_. You were supposed to be safe.” The shadow swings wide and Ryuji is knocked across the floor. Distantly, he hears Ren call his name, call for a healing persona, call Mars something harsh under his breath. Whatever it is, Mars crumples to the ground, hands sliding beneath the mask to press against her face. Ryuji looks up to see Ren aimed and ready to fire, but looking at him for feedback. He shakes his head and sees Ren’s grip loosen.

“Mars, stop all this. Please. It’s—” Ryuji takes a deep breath, “It’s okay to hurt. You don’t have to push everything away.”

The shadow recoils. “You were supposed to be safe,” she repeats, gently this time. “But you were too friendly, and that makes me feel even more alone. Reminds me I don’t have anyone else left. Being careful, not taking a stand? It’s lonely.”

Ryuji looks to Ren, thinks of himself. “Sometimes taking a stand is lonely, too. But sometimes it also brings you the best people. The kind you really want, even if there’s only a few. But you gotta choose.” Ren lowers his gun.

“Every choice is so heavy. How do you do it all the time?”

Ren is quick to step in. “You don’t have to make every choice. Some things matter more than others and you put your energy there. Like people, or skills, or what you have to do to stay alive.”

“And some things,” Ryuji looks to his feet, “some things just feel right and you don’t have to think at all.” He turns towards the door, feeling the blush hot in his face.

“Wait,” Mars cries, “You want whatever’s in here, right?.” She rips open the treasure chest and stuffs what ever small, shiny thing it is in Ren’s already full hands. He fumbles with treasure and gun in a way every professional thief in existence would be ashamed of. “I can’t even remember what it is; it’s been so long.”

Ryuji laughs. “You’ll find out soon,” he replies right as the world lurches once around them. “Uh, we gotta go, though.” When he and Ren dash to the stairs, the tower has already begun to crumble around them. They run.

“Hey, what that shadow said back there…” 

“Yes, Ryuji?” 

“That’s not any way to live.” Ren watches him, silent. “But I think it’s the same thing I was doing to you. And I’m sorry.” He stops there, afraid to say more.

“You don’t need to apologize, I’ll stay away. I get it.”

“But you don’t, dude! It’s not, I’m not—” Ryuji cracks his knuckles. “I like you, Ren. Like really like.”

“I know.”

“You _know_!?”

“It happens. Why was that such a big deal to you?”

“I thought you were into Ann. Or some other girl. I didn’t want to mess everything up.”

“Oh my god, _Ryuji_ , have you seen these gorgeous shoes? My ideal self is literally wearing kitten heels and leather.”

“What does that have to do with—”

“I don’t want a girlfriend.”

Ryuji’s brain takes a moment to process those words. It’s clear all at once, like a timer goes off in his head. “Dude, I knew something was going on between you and Yusuke.”

Ren scoffs, “Is it so hard to believe I want you?”

“I can’t imagine what you two get up to together.” Wait. Hold up. “What did you just say?”

“I’ve been flirting with you for at least two months. More, if you count times it wasn’t planned.”

This time, it’s Ryuji’s turn to scoff. “Yeah right. You wouldn’t even kiss me if I dared you.”

“Are you?”

“What?”

“Are you daring me?”

“Fuck it. Sure, why not.” The moment his lips shape out the end of the word, there’s another pair of lips on his. Ryuji is too surprised to respond at all, he doesn’t even think to close his eyes, is glad he didn’t when he gets an eyeful of dark hair and the blur of long eyelashes. It’s a quick kiss. Ren is already pulling away, letting his hand linger against Ryuji’s wrist.

“C’mere,” Ren says with a voice so low and gentle and fragile that Ryuji is the one who breaks. He leans into Ren, holds him tight enough to feel a heartbeat against his own. Ryuji tilts his head up—and he _means_ up, Ren is just that tiny bit taller than him—until he can press a kiss against Ren’s cheek. “Let’s just try, okay? I trust you with my life. Uh, that’s too much. I shouldn’t say that.”

Ryuji’s heart thumps. “Y-you can say it.”

“I, just, I don’t” Ren stammers, finally sounding his age, “You’re the only person who gave me a chance when we first met. You ignored every rumor. You’ve never cared whether or not I actually punched that guy.”

“Hell, I probably would’ve cheered you on.”

“That’s just it,” Ren hums, “I feel seen around you. For who I am, not just what people see me as. Of course I care about you, you idiot.”

Ryuji tucks his face against Ren’s shoulder with a sigh. “Like takin’ off the mask. I get it.”

“Right,” Ren whispers as he pulls back. He runs a gloved finger along Ryuji’s cheekbone, following the shape of the metal resting there. “So maybe now you can give me a chance to help you feel the same.” Ren’s pointer finger slides down his jaw until it rests under Ryuji’s chin, lifting his head so their eyes meet.

“I think I’d like that.” Ren smiles. It’s so warm that Ryuji feels his world shaken by it. Oh, crap it’s not just his world, the actual ground is shaking under them. “Now let’s go home before this palace collapses with us in it.” They just start falling when Ryuji hits the Nav faster than he ever has in his life, reality goes wonky, and Ren grabs his hand like it’s a safety net.

When the world re-forms, Ren and Ryuji are stuffed awkwardly in a corner of Huerta Floral. Mars starts when she catches them in her shop. “Hey, I didn’t even see you get here,” Mars comments. Her eyes flicker between them, lingering on their clasped hands. “I’m glad you finally confessed to your princess.”

“He did _not_.” Ren’s smile brightens. “I did all the work. Again.”

“Dude, shut up! I confessed!”

He laughs, “And immediately apologized.”

Ryuji ruffles up Ren’s hair with a vengeance just short of the kind reserved for petting a cute puppy. “How’s this for an apology?” And Ren flinches, but he also laughs as his hair becomes a true mess of tangled waves. “Ugh, how are you still pretty with your hair like that?

“I’m right here, you know,” Mars groans. And he wishes he could stop himself, but he can’t; he blushes so damn fast he can feel the blood rushing to his cheeks. 

Ren steps forward. “Maybe I should introduce myself. I’m Ren.”

“Good to put a name to all the tales of pining I get from this one,” She nods towards Ryuji, “You can call me Mars.”

“I’ve heard a lot about you, too,” reaching into his jacket pocket, Ren pulls out a necklace. The charms of stars and planets sparkle under a light tarnish, and one end has a clasp tied on lovingly with string. “We found something we think belongs to you.”

Eyes narrowed, Mars freezes. “How did you get that?”

“Sometimes,” Ren holds out the necklace and Mars grabs it in an instant. “Things get lost. Just like people.” 

Mars hums and clasps the necklace between her hands. “Thanks.”

“Of course. Now, we’ve got a date with some ramen. Nice to meet you, Mars.” She nods and mumbles a goodbye when Ren starts to walk away.

“Yo. I got some non-plant advice,” Ryuji whispers from behind his hand. 

She raises an eyebrow. “Really?”

“Sometimes takin’ a side is worth the risk. See you next week.”

Mars glances down to the necklace, then looks Ryuji right in the eyes. “I’m looking forward to it.”

—

Ryuji: 🌻

Ren: Is this a test, or are you giving me digital flowers?

Ryuji: both.

Ren: Respect. Passionate love. Radiance. Ryuji.

Ryuji: dude  
> i cant believe we effin’ KISSED in a collapsing palace  
> costumes and all

Ren: It’s definitely a low point in my Phantom Thief career.

Ryuji: bro wtf

Ren: We almost died, Ryuji.

Ryuji: worth it

Makoto: This is the group chat, you two.

Ryuji turns off his phone for the night.

—

_You have 103 unread messages._

**Author's Note:**

> The flower language follows Wikipedia’s coverage of _[Hanakotoba](https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Hanakotoba)_. I am just a humble fanfic author dabbling in that which is beyond my knowledge.
> 
> Thanks for sticking around and celebrating this lovely person's birthday with me! Hope you have a terrific day!


End file.
